“You?” she said. Her hand went to her throat above the high collar of her dress. Then, before he could speak again, it fell to her side and some of the tightness leaked out of her. “Oh,” she said. “I see.”

“See what?” said Donal, a little sharply; for unconsciously he had fallen into the tone he would have used to a junior cadet these last few years, if he had discovered one of them in some difficulty. “You’ll have to tell me what your trouble is, if I’m going to be any help to you.”

“Tell you—?” she looked desperately around her, as if expecting someone to come upon them at any moment. “How do I know you’re what you say you are?”

For the first time Donal check- reined the horses of his galloping estimate of the situation; and, looking back, discovered a possible misconception on her part.

“I didn’t say I was anybody,” he answered. “And in fact—I’m not. I just happened to be passing by and saw you seemed upset over something. I offered to help.”

“Help?” Her eyes widened again and her face suddenly paled. “Oh, no—” she murmured, and tried to go around him. “Please let me go. Please!”

He stood his ground.

“You were ready to accept help from someone like me, if he could only provide proofs of identity, a second ago,” said Donal. “You might as well tell me the rest of it.”

That stopped her efforts to escape. She stiffened, facing him.

“I haven’t told you anything.”

“Only,” said Donal, ironically, “that you were waiting here for someone. That you did not know that someone by sight, but expected him to be a man. And that you were not sure of his bona fides, but very much afraid of missing him.” He heard the hard edge in his own voice and forced it to be more gentle. “Also that you’re very frightened and not very experienced at what you’re doing. Logic could take it further.”

But she had herself under control now.

“Will you move out of the way and let me by?” she said evenly.

“Logic might make it that what you’re engaged in is something illegal,” he replied.

She sagged under the impact of his last word as if it had been a blow; and, turning her face blindly to the wall, leaned against it.

“What are you?” she said brokenly. “Did they send you to trap me?” “I tell you,” said Donal, with just a hint of exasperation, “I’m nothing but a passer-by who thought maybe I could help.”

“Oh, I don’t believe you!” she said, twisting her face away from him, “If you’re really nobody . . . if nobody sent you . . . you’ll let me go. And forget you ever saw me.”

“Small sense in that,” said Donal. “You need help evidently. I’m equipped to give it. I’m a professional soldier. A Dorsai.”